the curvature of the thigh
as it meets the buttocks
and wraps around hips
that flow into flat stomachs,
which lead to breasts of many kinds,
is most exquisite.

yet corrupt i am not,
for i love the art of a beautiful body
as a poet loves a perfect sonnet,
intact, precise and with no excess;
or as an architect loves the Pantheon,
such perfect a structure none dare match.

yet art exists in many forms - not all beautiful to be sure -
but who is to blame one for admiring, as a poet, or what more?